


and the sign said the words of the prophets are written on the (villa) walls

by viveriveniversumvivusvici55



Series: The Sound of Silence [3]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: (aka the collars and the bombs), Canon-Typical Violence, Dead Money DLC, Ex-Legion Courier, Gen, Psychological Trauma, Shipping If You Squint, Trans Male Character, it's pronounced Percy, mute character, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viveriveniversumvivusvici55/pseuds/viveriveniversumvivusvici55
Summary: “Well, if you want to find out about the signal, I’ll come with you, Perse.”Arcade and Perse wake up with explosive collars wrapped around their necks and a man over the radio yelling at them to do as he says. Arcade is interpreter while Perse has a quiet ongoing panic attack.Why is the Mojave like this?
Relationships: Male Courier/Arcade Gannon
Series: The Sound of Silence [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615609
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. A Brief Character Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Dead Money is terrifying. I had to write it, at least a bit.
> 
> First note: His name is pronounced Percy.  
> Second note: I am neither mute nor trans, even though Perse is. This may show up in my writing, and if it offends, I apologize and please let me know what I can do to change it.

_You are a courier, hired by the Mojave Express, to deliver a package to the New Vegas Strip. What seemed like a simple delivery job has taken a turn…for the worse. According to a recorded message on your Pipboy (in addition to the delivery notice), your name is Perse. You were once a slave in Caesar's Legion, owned by the one and only Malpais Legate. When he fell from grace, you ran to avoid death, stole a Pipboy and clothes from a dead vault dweller, and recorded a message to yourself saying that you're free but being hunted by the Legion. Considering your scarred slit throat is not as old as the collar scars around your neck, but older than the bullet in your head, you suspect they caught you. You picked up a rifle and made the executive decision to not only try to deliver your package but find the man who shot you in the first place._

_In the process of trying to deliver your package to the Vegas Strip (after many, many errands for people around said Strip),_ _you picked up an interesting broadcast on your PipBoy – an advertisement for the Sierra Madre casino, where one could begin again. You were intrigued – this is obviously something from before the war, and while the idea of money is definitely appealing, you want to know what started this signal up again. Who was there? What did they find? You are curious, and you have to find out. You take Arcade with you, as you do with so many things, and set off for the signal’s source._

_When you discover it deep within the Bunker, you feel a thump to the back of your head. Your last thought, as the darkness wraps you, is only two words._

**_Not again._ **


	2. Entering the Madre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perse and Arcade wake up in the Sierra Madre. Neither of them are happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I have been playing Perse, Arcade has become my default companion (along with EDE, of course). I apologize in advance if I get Arcade's dialogue wrong.

Perse isn’t able to scream anymore, but when he wakes up with an explosive collar around his neck, that certainly doesn’t stop him from trying. The Auto-Doc in Big Mounntain did give him a bit more of a voice, repairing some of the damage done by Vulpes’s knife, but it can’t work miracles. Perse’s terrified scream sounds like someone is trying to slit his throat again – a high pitched whine of terror, turning raspier and raspier into silence. Then there is hyperventilating and fingers scrabbling at the collar, trying to find the latch.

_No, no, no, not again, not again, I'd rather die than be back with the Legion, get it off get it off getitoffgetito-_

“Perse! _PERSE!”_

Hands grab onto his, stopping his frantic attempts to pry the explosive collar off, and Perse thrashes against them for a moment before he recognizes them. He turns to look and _thank ATOM Arcade is still here._ Arcade is holding him tight, radiating concern, and says firmly, “Perse, you could set it off.”

Perse’s mechanical heart isn't quite able to pound through his chest, but his hyperventilating gets worse as his paranoia turns into reality. But, his hands stay still. He doesn’t fight Arcade. He swallows, trying to calm down, and Arcade holds him until he’s certain that Perse isn’t going to try and rip the collar off the moment he lets go.

"We're not with the Legion. We're okay. We didn't get separated," Arcade, for all of his awkwardness, knows what to say and Perse slowly relaxes hair by hair. “Now, where are we? Do you remember what happened?”

 _No._ Perse shakes his head, hating the feeling of the collar against his jaw. He raises his hands to sign some more questions, like _where the fuck are we and who did this to us,_ when movement catches his eye. A sudden burst of light. They both turn to look at their surroundings. They are surrounded by Old World buildings under a disgusting looking cloudy sky, and the fountain in front of them has lit up with a hologram.

_The fuck?_

Arcade and Perse slowly get to their feet and stare at the shape of an old man’s face in the hologram.

“Are you listening?” The old man says, the voice low and powerful. “Good. From now on, when I talk, listen – and follow my instructions. Play stupid, play clever, make the mistake of saying ‘no?’ Those collars on your necks will go off and take your heads with them.”

Arcade’s glare could turn a man to stone, and Perse feels his entire being focus on the drive to murder this man.

Perse taps the collar lightly and points the old man. Arcade translates with ease. “You put these on us.”

“Yes. It’s like that Pip-Boy on your wrist, except filled with explosives. A little radio of the Old World, just needed some tuning,” the Old Man sounds so proud with his work. “Do what I say, and the collar won’t go off…refuse, try and run, disobey me? I’ll kill you and find someone else. There’s no escape from here until I let you go, after all. The sooner you accept your situation, the better.”

Perse bares his teeth in a snarl and flips off the fountain.

The Old Man snorts. “Do you think I wanted to place collars on you to ensure compliance? No…if robots could have done this, I would’ve sent them.”

“Forgive us if we don’t thank you,” Arcade snipes.

The Old Man continues as if he doesn’t hear, “The Sierra Madre is a complicated lock. Cracking it open requires human hands.”

Perse and Arcade stare at each other for a moment, eyes wide, and look up the hill at the looming building above them. The Sierra Madre casino.

Perse makes a few quick signs: a questioning face, hands palm up moving back and forth, pointing at the old man, pulling hands towards himself, pointing at himself and Arcade.

“What?”

Arcade snorts. “You picked the most helpful person in the Mojave, but he's the one person who can’t speak to you. Mute.”

Privately, Perse remembers how long it took for Arcade to work out what Perse’s signs meant. They couldn’t always rely on Perse typing them out, or on EDE being able to translate Robco termlink code into words. It took one very long week at the Follower’s Mission - where Perse was recovering from drunkenly charging a deathclaw, but that was another story – where they worked out a system of signs, practicing until Perse could sign rapidly and at an angle and Arcade could still get the general idea of what Perse meant. Then there was the whole process of teaching the signs to Perse’s other strays, especially when Arcade wasn’t there to help. Still, Perse doesn’t let any hint of that show – he just raises an eyebrow at the hologram, smirking at the bump in the road.

“What did he say then?” The Old Man sounds impatient.

“He wants to know what you want from us,” Arcade replies. “I’m guessing you want in, for whatever wealth the Sierra Madre has?”

“You have some brains after all, Enclave boy.”

Perse snarls again.

“Calm down, Legion brat. Remember, your lives are in my hands. Maybe I’ll blow up your friend, let you wander here alone.”

There is no snarl, only Perse’s hand falling to his side and fingers curling into the sleeve of Arcade’s jumpsuit. It’s an oddly affectionate gesture for such a place, especially with such venom still on Perse’s face, but Arcade has a slightly pleased smile anyway. “Don’t worry. We’ll play along,” Arcade tells the hologram. “We’ll help you with your heist.”

* * *

Perse’s Pip-Boy is possibly the most valuable thing he’s ever picked up in the Wasteland. When the Old Man disappears, the hologram shifting into a lovely young woman, Perse and Arcade sit down at the edge of the fountain, Pip-Boy between them.

“Well, curiosity killed the cat,” Arcade mutters, “Serves us right for following another radio broadcast. And you should know better after the whole ‘had your brain scooped out and put back in’ event.”

Perse rolls his eye hard and clicks through his Pip-Boy until he gets to the radio frequency section. Sure enough, there are three new frequencies. A dark eyebrow arches as Perse looks at them – long strings of numbers to indicate a frequency, and the last ones represent the collars of the rest of the group.

“Shall we give them a listen?” Arcade asks.

Perse nods and clicks on to number 8, the one the Old Man suggested they go to first. It takes a moment to focus it in, and there is a roar. Arcade jumps back in surprise, Perse stares in surprise, and when the sound fades, he tunes in again. There are whimpers, the sound of a grown person crying. Tuning in again…they finally get a voice. **“Hope the Voice doesn’t come back. Mean. Bad.”**

“That sounds like a nightkin,” Arcade says quietly. They have heard enough over the course of their travels to recognize the tone, the snarl, the references to rather poor mental health.

Perse nods and tunes in again to see if there are any clues.

**“Swallowed something bad. Tastes like…burnt wires.”**

“A hungry nightkin,” Arcade amends.

Tuning in one last time, the nightkin is crying again. Perse’s face contorts with sympathy, the kind that makes Arcade groan immediately upon seeing it.

“No, no, Perse, you are not feeling bad for him, don’t you dare.”

Perse makes a sheepish face and holds his hand parallel to the ground, elbow up, before swishing the hand down. _Too late._

“Dammit, Perse," Arcade looks resigned to Perse's bleeding heart. "Try the others?"

They try number 12 next, but there is only the sound of buzzing saws. _It sounds faintly like an AutoDoc_ , Perse taps out on his Pip-Boy to Arcade. The man just shudders.

"That's...not a good sign."

Finally, they try number 14. A man's voice comes through, a touch of an accent curling his words. **"You'd think it was spring the way tourists keep rolling in,"** the man says softly.

"An actual voice this time," Arcade comments. "Thank goodness."

**"Hope those two tourists are hurrying, I haven't got all day."**

"You think he means us?"

_Maybe._

**"That one's got a head on their shoulders. For now."**

They both shudder at that.

**"Should never have set that radio signal on repeat."**

Arcade smiles. "We're going after him next."

Perse nods firmly. _After the Nightkin._

"Alright, you bleeding heart. Let's get him." Arcade stands, pulling out the holorifle that the old man so helpfully gave them. Perse opens the map, maps out the route they need to take, and turns off the Pip-Boy’s screen. There’s a knife on the ground nearby, which Perse picks up and spins slowly on a finger. He looks sad, and mimes swinging an axe.

_I miss my Proton Axe._

“We’ll find you something better,” Arcade says soothingly. With that, they make their way through the winding streets of the Madre’s villas, weapons at the ready. They have a good rhythm together from having faced so much in the Mojave.

Still…neither of them likes the idea of what they’ll find here.


	3. A Conversation with God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find Collar 8.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog/God is possibly one of my favourite characters in Fallout: New Vegas. I desperately wanted to run into him again after going to the Sierra Madre.

According to Perse’s shattered memory, he’s done lots of stupid things. He’s charged into battle underprepared, overconfident, overintoxicated, and sometimes all of the above. He’s leapt gaps he shouldn’t try to make, survived wounds he shouldn’t have been able to get up from, tried to sweet talk people without a voice, made deals he shouldn’t have, and plenty more.

Negotiating with a Nightkin is probably up there on the list.

They had considered playing the tape from the Old Man, but ultimately, Arcade was the one to suggest going down to the basement - to look for better armour and weapons in case things didn't go well with the nightkin - and to play the recording offered by the strange soothing voice - because that person sounded infinitely more rational than the Old Man. Perse agreed with the first point, although he nearly killed Arcade the moment they heard the radio frequencies nearly set off their collars, and with the second point, because _FUCK THE OLD MAN._ Armed and ready, Perse steps up to the bars, watching the weeping and crying nightkin in the cage, and finally, he taps ‘play’.

**“DOG, BACK IN THE CAGE!”**

Just like that, an unseen switch flips, the Nightkin stops crying, and the massive man gets to his feet. Now that they can see it better, Perse and Arcade are both taken aback. They've seen nightkin before - they've spent more than enough time in Jacobstown - but they've never seen one quite so...mutilated. There’s a bear trap around the nightkin’s arm, and the word ‘DOG’ is carved into its chest. Blood dripping down the arm and chest…the nightkin must be in massive pain.

Then the man speaks, and the voice isn’t what they had overheard through the Pip-Boy radio, whining and begging and complaining about eating something he shouldn't have. It’s…the voice from the recording. “What have we here?"

 _WHAT THE FUCK,_ Perse quickly signs.

Arcade's eyes are wide behind his glasses. "You are _not_ what I expected," he says."

" _You_ weren’t who I was expecting, neither of you. I’m disappointed.” Sharp, intelligent eyes flick back and forth between Perse and Arcade. “Still, even if you aren’t my intended guest, you take direction. Good.”

Arcade snorts. “Perse, you take direction?” Perse nudges him with an elbow, not looking away from the nightkin.

The nightkin continues, “You can’t have been an idiot to figure out how to release me from my cage. Or perhaps you are, with that leash on your arm,” he looks at Perse intently, “and the ones around your necks. With our collars and manacles, why, we may as well be kin.”

There's a smile at that, and Perse feels his hair stand up on end on the back of his neck.

Perse is confused, and he frowns along with his confusion. He waves his hands in a ‘what’ sign and taps his throat. Arcade translates, “ _What happened to your voice?”_

“I’m the voice of reason. I sleep sometimes…down in the basement, in the cage. Now that I’m awake, Dog goes back in the cage. Dog knows I’m here, but can’t do anything about it. I’m his…conscience. Keep him tame, keep him from hurting us…doing foolish things.”

It doesn’t take a genius to work it out – they’ve spent enough time in Jacobstown to piece it together. Perse subtly taps it out on his Pip-Boy and shows it to Arcade. _Split personality._ Arcade jerks his chin down slightly in a nod, but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud.

“I’ve been trapped in here for some time, then you come along and let me out. So…you opened my cage for a reason. Now…I want to know why. And what happened to your voice? Does this man speak for you?” He stares intently at Perse. “You answer. Not him.”

Perse frowns and thinks for a moment on how to say this. He's spent so long around people who know his signs, who can translate, that the act of having to start all over again is hard. He mimes grabbing his voice out of his throat, and throwing it away. Then he taps his throat, tilting his chin up and pressing the collar down slightly with a finger to show the scar above its edge.

The nightkin makes a sound of comprehension. “It was taken from you. You were silenced, and now you have to find your voice in others, but it’s not really your voice.”

Arcade steps in. “Occasionally, I’m his voice. Although sometimes he says things I don’t particularly want to say,” Arcade grins. Perse rolls his eye hard at him, but he doesn’t really mean it. Arcade likes him and they both know it. “Will that be a problem?”

The nightkin doesn’t answer, eyes on Perse. Perse’s shoulders straighten with the recognition and waits for the question. “Why did you open my cage?”

_We are looking for someone with collars like us. Where’s your collar?_

The nightkin growls. “It’s close, closer than I’d like. Dog’s been into things, needs to think before he eats, chew before he swallows. He’s eager that way. Now the collar’s a part of me. Inside. I can feel its electronic heartbeat, clicking and burning down below…like before.”

Arcade grimaces, looking down at the nightkin’s stomach.

“It was cold and heavy before going in the cage…now you’re here and it’s pulling and kicking again, tugging like a leash. Interesting.”

“How the hell did you eat one of those?” Arcade bursts out.

“They…detach. When segmented, they look like nothing more than metallic Radscorpions…and if they’re attached to neck flesh, warm, red…Dog doesn’t care what’s on the body he’s crushing in his hands, he’ll mangle it, twist it, make it fit until he’s full.”

Perse and Arcade stare at each other, eyes wide. _Welp,_ Perse mouths. Internally, he thinks, _Thank goodness Dog wasn’t hungry when he took us._

“Dog can’t help himself…hungry…greedy. And now the collar’s inside, alive again. And we’re trapped here until it goes cold.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat Old World tech.” Arcade grins. Perse slaps Arcade’s arm, half-frowning.

A laugh. “As if I had a choice. Sometimes instinct takes over, and that’s when I go into the cage. It’s like curiosity that way. After all, you wouldn’t have put that collar on by choice…perhaps it was your curiosity that caused that hand to close on your neck.”

Perse shrugs.

“So…Dog’s hungry all the time. Let me guess…” Arcade taps his chin. “You locked him in, and then he took over and couldn’t get out.”

A look of failure spreads across the nightkin’s face. “I hoped if I locked him in here…the one he obeys would come for him. Instead, I get you.”

Perse mimes a beard. _The Old Man?_

“Yes, the old man obsessed with the Sierra Madre, riddled with greed. Hoped you might be him when I woke up. All you are is his hand…and you’re the same kind of greed. Followed the radio, the broadcast, and now you’re here, all confused. Not for long.” The nightkin’s face turns fierce with a promise. “You’ll figure it out.”

Perse gestures to both of them, makes the sign of a beard, and shakes his head. Arcade guesses it and translates, “ _Why are we the same as the old man?”_

“You’re not him any more than I’m Dog. But that collar around your neck…you two are extensions of the Old Man’s grasp, clumsy, perhaps, but a tool, yes. And once you get acclimated to the Sierra Madre…”

The nightkin prowls forward, pressing closer to the bars. Arcade steps back slightly, feeling small and threatened, even with the bars, but Perse stands his ground, even as the nightkin snarls at him with breath like rotting flesh, “Then you’ll feel the same overpowering hunger the Old Man does. And then you’ll be him, not just his hand."

“We came for curiosity, yes, but I don’t think we will have any love for this place,” Arcade comments.

A huff. “We shall see.”

 _Who is the old man?_ Perse asks.

“Elijah,” the nightkin says the name like a curse. “Human, weak like you all are. Feeling age circling him like starved dogs, howling for blood.”

Perse sucks in a breath and makes a noise of surprise. Arcade turns to him, an eyebrow raised. “What?” As Perse makes a V with his fingers, Arcade groans. “Wait, this is Veronica’s Elijah? From the Brotherhood of Steel?”

Perse nods, tapping his head. _I think so._

The nightkin doesn’t care. “To me, he reeks of age and failure. And madness. To me, he is simply the Old Man. To Dog, he is Master. His name, meaningless. Running out of years, hopes and dreams running through his withered hands like sand from the Big Empty…and scorched by the sun. Tried to hold the sun in his hands, arrogance, and was cast own for it. Icarus’s crime was to fly too high. Elijah wanted to bring the sun down to him.”

Arcade remembers. “Helios.”

Perse pieces it together slowly. _Elijah hears the radio, comes, sees the Madre,_ (he signs a building for this) _, and stays._

“Dog knows him more than I do. Dog’s always nodding, always obeying him, because he’s weak and hungry and greedy for master’s affection.”

Perse slaps his thigh once, a halfway sign for nightstalker, and looks at Arcade. Arcade gets it. “Dog. That’s the sign for Dog.” Perse nods, slaps the thigh again, and makes a gesture of pulling something. Arcade says softly, “Dog brought us here, right?”

The nightkin nods. “Even if I don’t see it happen – down in the cage, I hear echoes of the footfalls, the click of the collars. Every time I see one of you, I know exactly how you got here – you couldn’t help yourselves, any more than Dog can help himself. You heard the voice, the promise, and then you walked right into one of the Old Man’s traps. Then…then Dog comes for you, drags you here.”

“Curiosity,” Arcade sighs mournfully. “Why didn’t we just ignore it?”

 _How?_ Perse gestures at the two of them. _You know how we are._

“Okay, fair point.”

Perse nods slowly. Then he tilts his head, questioning, and asks, _What do we call you?_

“That’s Perse,” Arcade fills in, pointing at him, “and I’m Arcade. And you are…”

“The name on my chest is for mirrors,” the nightkin says.

“God?” Arcade frowns. “Your name is God? I’m not sure I can say that with a straight face.”

“It’s my name,” God snarls.

Perse makes a shorthand sign, a letter G slapped over his heart. Boss-G. Arcade sighs. “That’s your name then.”

God huffs, seemingly glad to not have to fight it. Perse makes the beard sign again and makes a gesture of bringing the nightkin with him. _Elijah wants you to come with us._

“I’m not leaving until the one who controls the collar shows…not his voice, not his hands, not his lackeys,” God eyes both of them. “ _Him_. And when he comes to see me, we’ll settle things. So go on, go back to your Master, tell him I’m waiting for him. Dog may follow him – I won’t.”

Perse rattles the collar with his thumb, feeling panic start to well up in his chest at the thought of what would happen. God scoffs. “If he kills us, I win either way. I’d rather die in this cell than have Dog follow him any longer, follow his orders, his commands, desperate for recognition. The Old Man…he has the need to hold on, to the past, to the Madre…I’d rather be free, let go of this shell, than have it cage me any longer.”

“We want our freedom too. You think we want these collars on us?” Arcade snaps. “Perse’s served a master once, he’d rather die than do it again.”

Perse nods emphatically.

God frowns. “You served?”

Arcade looks to Perse for permission to say it and Perse nods in resignation. It gets tiring to have to bring this up over and over again, but it's necessary. Arcade explains, “Legion. Had a collar on for years, had to pretend he was someone else that the master wanted him to be. Then his master was killed and Perse ran. Free for years before they took his voice as punishment for running.”

God hums. “And you?”

“What can I say? He's my friend. Where Perse goes, I go,” Arcade shrugs. Perse’s heart could burst at that (nope, down, bury the crush down _deep)_ and he stares at Arcade with a slightly dopey smile as the scientist explains, "And neither of us are meant for cages."

“They all wanted their freedom at first. Then…they realized they could get inside the Madre. After that, their freedom wasn’t important anymore. They couldn’t let go, just like the Old Man. So you say you want your freedom, both of you…” God’s eyes flick between them and Perse can see the cynicism in the expression. The nightkin is jaded from watching so many people follow the same path. “No…even if you feel that way, it won’t last. You’ll forget, get greed-blind, and you’ll turn.”

_Then we go after Elijah together._

“No. I don’t trust you, even with your story. Even if you’re not working with him. You’ll fall into the same trap he did. You may think you can take your revenge…that’ll change. You’ll start thinking there’s a way to have it all.”

Perse starts to sign and then his hands fall with a groan. How can he say this? It's hard to express complex thought through sign, especially when there is no established signs for it. He taps it out on his PipBoy and holds it up to Arcade, who gladly jumps in to read it out, “If you have the key in there, the Old Man can order Dog to open the cage.”

Suddenly, God looks a little apprehensive. “Dog…obeys. Yes. Why…do you have some means of contacting the Old Man?”

Perse taps the Pip-Boy with a nail. No explanation is needed, as the moment he does that, fury crosses God's features. In an instant, Perse knows that he fucked up as God storms the bars, grabbing them and shaking them. Perse steps back once, expression saying without words 'I have made a terrible mistake', and Arcade hisses out a curse of surprise, hand flying to his gun. “You…don’t play it!” God snarls. “If you do, I’ll find a way to get out of the cage, end you both. I’ll murder you, crush your arms and legs until-“

Perse makes an ‘easy, easy’ gesture, like he’s trying to calm an angry brahmin. He signs slowly, _I not play, you come with us._

“Willingly,” Arcade fills in.

“No, you wouldn’t. If you did, you won’t leave this place alive. I’d shatter every one of your limbs to splinters and leave you here,” There is venom, rage, and…if Perse isn’t seeing things…fear. “I’ll prop your broken bodies in view of the Sierra Madre so you can see what you can to steal…forever out of reach as you die.”

Perse taps out a message slowly on his Pip-Boy as God gnashes his teeth. Arcade reads as Perse types, “We can’t convince you we’re not here for the Sierra Madre or the Old Man, or that we won’t turn…so we’ll prove it.”

“Prove it…how? Words are worthless, even for one who can’t use them properly.”

Perse winces at the insult but keeps typing. Arcade reads, “'I have the power to let Dog out of his cage. I’m going to prove it by not doing it.'” Arcade frowns at Perse, but Perse mouths, _It’s okay._

God grunts in surprise. “No…no, you’re not. Even though Dog’s more docile…easier to control.” He sighs. “You may regret this. This place…this place is where creatures like Dog can survive. The people that fill its streets…”

“We’ve met them,” Arcade grunts.

God nods. “Dog is as vicious, more vicious than them. His hunger can help you more than I can. When I am in control, this shell is…difficult to fight in.”

Perse pulls out his knife from his belt and flips it in the air, spinning it around his hand. Arcade says simply, “I think we’re vicious enough together to balance it out. Cut off the limbs to kill them properly, right?”

God nods. “Disintegrate, if you can. Or devour. Dog is always hungry.”

“You keep saying that like you expect us to back out,” Arcade notes. God shrugs, even with an angry face, and Arcades says, “Look, I’m not saying I like you and I trust you about as far as I can throw you. But,” and he reads this last bit from Perse’s Pip-Boy, “'even if Dog is more helpful, we’ll manage.'”

The expression on God’s face is…troubled. Interested. Concerned. “I am not sure you belong here. No, you don’t belong here, either of you. Yet, you came this far and I’m not interested in remaining here any longer.”

Perse smiles. _You come with us?_

“I’ll unlock the cage. Lead on.”

The cage door swings open and God steps out, towering over them. Perse turns off the Pip-Boy and smiles.

“I know the good paths to walk, to make it so the people in the streets do not see us,” God offers.

“Thank Atom,” Arcade sighs. “I’m running out of ammo.”

They find the equipment lockers in short order. Perse and Arcade swap into better armour – and Arcade surreptiously cops a look at Perse’s shirtless body, at the scars across his chest, the line of his abs and hips, because Arcade is weak and Perse is goddamn beautiful – and Perse finds a gun he can use. He offers one to God, which God, with an expression of surprise on his face, takes.

Arcade gently pulls God aside while Perse tinkers with a lock on a particularly full looking box. “You want to protect Dog, in your own way, right? That’s how I am with him. You hurt him, I tear you apart.” Arcade’s voice is low, vicious, and full of angry promise.

As much as God is very clearly not intimidated, the nightkin looks…impressed. “He is a part of you. I see.” Arcade’s cheeks go red. His mouth opens to sputter, but God raises a hand to silence him. “If he crosses me, I will do as I have promised. I do not trust you, Arcade, but I trust that you will keep _your_ promise as well.”

“Believe me. I will.”


	4. Starstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find Collar 14. Arcade is _not impressed._

The slog to collar 14 is difficult as they wander through Puestra del Sol. God may not be quite as good in a fight as they would hope, but the nightkin has a good eye for traps, which saves them a hell of a lot of pain. Perse narrowly misses bear trap after bear trap, and Arcade has to duck quickly to avoid a log boom that swings his way. God rolls his eyes at them - “so fragile, and yet you greet death with open arms so often” - but he never leaves them behind. The great equalizer, though, is the patches of the Cloud tucked in corners of rooms. Everyone has to put their weapons away and put their hand over to their mouth, holding their breath as best as they can as they charge through the acidic vapour. It burns Arcade's skin and what little that creeps into his lungs. How the Ghost People survive in here, Arcade has no idea. 

But they make it to the signal's source eventually. They climb to the top of a building, winding up the stairs, and there, sitting in a nice chair, looking out over the villas…is a ghoul in a suit and sunglasses. Perse raises both eyebrows in surprise.

“He has been here for years,” God growls. “The Madre has him in its thrall.”

“Pull up a chair and let’s talk,” the ghoul pats the arm of a nice chair next to him, and Perse walks up to take a seat. The PipBoy is open to a typing screen, and Arcade takes up a position nearby to translate. The ghoul turns to look at them and for a moment, the two look at each other with apprehensive expressions. No small wonder - Perse is probably wondering how the hell a ghoul survived in this place for so long (and what kind of person that makes him), and the ghoul is wondering what kind of person just sat in his chair. A scarred, one-eyed person with a slit throat, an explosive collar, and an attempt at a charming smile.

"The Sierra Madre. Mmm...beauty, isn't she. She the one who invited you here?" The ghoul has a low smoky voice, like singers over the radio waves, and it drips charm. "Or maybe you didn't catch her voice on the radio. Woke up, confused, like some of the others. Least you're still breathing."

Perse shrugs and smiles a little bit, tapping one of the still bleeding wounds on his arm. _Not for lack of trying._

“I’ve wondered when you would get here, been watching you make your way through. Might be a bit rude, but don’t get up or make any sudden moves, no matter how uncomfortable that chair gets. The cushion’s just for show.”

 _Shit._ Perse’s eye went wide, but he doesn't flinch. No, after ages in the Mojave, Perse knows how not to flinch. Instead, he gathers himself, taking a slow breath, and he taps out a response that Arcade reads out. “That better be a” he chokes, “a shaped charge or you’ll blow us both to kingdom come.”

The ghoul smiles. “Sounds like you’ve done a bit of work in your lifetime. How nice to speak to an informed audience, for once. Now, try to get up without my permission, and I’ll blast your ass so far through your head, it’ll turn the moon cherry pie red.”

God snarls behind them, but Perse makes a hushing gesture. Arcade leans back to God and hisses, "Easy. He's got it." If Perse is good at one thing (besides killing people, that is), it's making people like him enough not to kill him. Even as he says so, Perse rests his hands on his lap, fingers on his Pipboy screen, ready to type. He does not move, just watches the ghoul politely, and the ghoul smiles. 

"Good. You've got brains, if not much voice behind them. We'll keep this sweet and polite and finish our conversation with no misunderstandings."

Perse points to himself, resting a finger on his lips, and then at Dean before cupping a hand to his ear. Arcade translates, "We'll be quiet for now. Go ahead. We'll listen."

The ghoul looks pleased. "And that's what I've missed - a rapt audience. Now, just because I work in entertainment doesn't mean I'm a moron. I heard my necktie beeping. I know what that means - I'm part of this somehow. I want out of this contract and if you put me in it, I'm not going to be too happy."

Arcade can't see Perse's face, but he can guess the curdled horrified expression as the ghoul snorts. "Well, if you did, you hide it well."

"I think the last things that Perse wants are to have a collar on or put a collar on someone else," Arcade interjects and Perse nods along.

The ghoul inclines his head in acknowledgement, although Arcade would bet anything that the ghoul doesn't believe them, and continues. "So, if you're a part of all this, all of you...you're taking orders from me."

God snorts. Genuinely snorts. Perse whips around in the chair to stare down the supermutant, shaking his head. His expression is serious, looking down at the cushion and back up to God. Arcade definitely doesn't need to translate that. _I am sitting on an explosive and you know what happens if one of us dies. We are going along with what this man says._ After a moment of quiet staring, God nods. Perse's eyes flick over to Arcade and the doctor nods too, adjusting the collar around his neck. He trusts Perse's judgement when it comes to things like this. Not in situations with wild animals, not when Perse is drunk and his desire for adrenaline overruns his common sense, and not when it comes to Perse looks at a threat and decides that he can take it on...but when it comes to knowing people's hearts, Perse's got good instincts. 

_I would walk through fire for you, Perse. I hope you're right on this._

Perse turns back to the ghoul and taps out a question. Arcade leans over and reads it. _**First things first, if we're being polite...I'm Perse, the one reading this out is Arcade, and the one behind us is called God. What's your name?**_

The ghoul chuckles. "Do forgive me, it’s been too long since I’ve had to rely on my social graces. The name’s Dean Domino, pleased to meet you.”

Perse blinks. **_From the posters?_**

Dean Domino - that's where Arcade recognizes his voice from, from one or two songs that have come over the Mojave Music station - smiles, although it's a little tight. "A man of culture, I see. Yes, I was quite the entertainer before the bombs fell. But flattery will get you nowhere."

But it does get you closer. Perse taps out a longer reply and says, _**Alright, Dean, we'll cooperate as much as we can. As for getting out, I'm right there with you, but until we accomplish what he wants us to do...he said he’d let us go when he’s gotten what he wants, if you can believe that.**_

"The odds aren't exactly in our favour then, but I've played with worse hands. I am a better man, after all. If you're here with who I think - the old man whose voice calls out over the radio - then I'd rather have you on my side than his. You want to live, I want what's in the Madre. Real simple."

God's voice echoes in Arcade's memory. _The Madre has him in its thrall._ Ah. They've found another thief. 

"If that's all, then let's head out." Perse holds out a gloved hand and Dean shakes it firmly. 

"All right, partner," Dean smiles and leans down, wiggling a few wires. "Safe to stand now."

_**Blasting my ass on the first date? Not even going to buy me dinner?** _

Arcade winces as he reads that out but Dean laughs. "A sense of humour. But not your companion I see."

"It's not the worst joke he's ever made," Arcade defends himself, "but it's not exactly good." 

Perse points at Arcade, presses both of his hands over his heart, and then points at himself with a smirk on his face. _You love me and you know it._ Arcade pointedly doesn't acknowledge it. 

Meanwhile, Dean and God eye each other. Arcade can see the distrust pain across their faces and he puts his face in his hand as God growls, "Touched by radiation, and you choose to spend your time here. You could have just left...but you're too obsessed to let go."

Dean sniffs disdainfully and spits, "I used to know a ventriloquist with more skill than you. At least he had the sense to know his own name, without carving it into his chest. 

"Mirrors tell me my name when needed...and I have a name for you, several," the disgust drips from God's lips, "Thief, coward...showman. Radiation couldn't kill the truth, could it?"

"The truth, buddy, is this: we're family as long as we've got these bowties on," Arcade can't see Dean's expression through the sunglasses but he is _sure_ that even though Dean is smirking, the ghoul's eyes are staring daggers into the supermutant. "So watch your mouth, you don't scare me."

"Children, behave," Arcade teases and both turn to glare at him. Perse's elbow drives into his side and Arcade winces. "I never said I was funny. But seriously, we need to work together to get through this whole mess. If we turn on each other now, Elijah wins."

Perse's lip curls in a snarl and he tugs at his collar. It's a silent affirmation and everyone slowly cools down. As they descend the stairs, God growls, "There is still one more to find. The woman who came looking for the old man."

Arcade frowns. "You know where Collar 12 is?"

Perse flicks on the radio signal and all they hear is the whirring of machinery. God frowns, head tilted to listen to the signal, and mutters, "It sounds like those machines in the medical center."

Now Arcade knows why it sounds familiar. "It sounds like an Auto-Doc in the middle of surgery," he turns to Perse, who nods as the memory of the Sink's Auto-Doc plays in their heads. "But why the hell is someone getting surgery?"

Perse turns to Dean, flipping to the map on his PipBoy and handing it over. Dean leans over it and draws out a route with a bony finger. "We'll have to watch for traps on the way - I've set quite a few over the years, but there should be some supply kits along the way. Although I'd rather like it if you left some for me, in case this doesn't go well."

 _Thanks for the optimism._ Perse's expression stills at that, shoulders going tight. As Dean takes the lead, God following, Arcade grabs Perse's hand and gives it a squeeze. "Hey," he says softly. "We'll make it out. We've been through worse."

Perse signs slowly, sighing quietly. _I know. But this isn't going to be easy._

...no. No, it is not. 


End file.
